


Perilous Machinations

by Alice_Marie



Category: Les liaisons dangereuses | Dangerous Liaisons - Choderlos de Laclos, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 18th Century Sort Of, Alternate Universe, Armitage Hux Has Feelings, Armitage Hux doesn't want feelings, Complicated Relationships, Corsets and floof, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Everything seems dubious, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, High society BS, Kylo is a bit of a flirt, Kylo is a slut, Kylo should put on a shirt, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Probably there will be angst because I'm a whore for misery apparently, Sorry Not Sorry, There's a plot, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, We're Here for SMUT not Historical Accuracy, fancy parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21830044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alice_Marie/pseuds/Alice_Marie
Summary: Scandal, sodomy, seduction, and other s-words abound! Vaguely based in the 18th century, vaguely based on Dangerous Liaisons, using the lovely dynamics of Kylux and other ships comes a tale of sexy times and a bit of plot! ;D~"Parties are expensive. The social calendar isn't eve-""We'll open the social calendar." Ben cuts him off, stepping closer, already knowing Hux would protest the closure of the social calendar."Ben..." Hux warns, taking a step back from him, deliberately placing space between them.His habits, his blatant hedonism... They are all expensive. It adds up. More troubling, the longer Hux spends with those neat, perfect lines of his ledgers - he realizes how deeply entangled they have become. How much of his life rides on this business union, and how easily Ben could lead to his ruination after all the hard work he has put in."The invites have already gone out." Ben declares, a wide grin. Hux hates it. Hates that gleam, that mirth... So boyish, so roguish... So charming. Lovable. Everything that he himself is not.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Perilous Machinations

**Author's Note:**

> We'll try to update this one as we dooooo xD 
> 
> Got inspired by the ballet, the incredible soundtrack and costumes all based off the original Dangerous Liasons story. But... Now it's a Star War and probably just a tad different xD We really like Reylux, so it's safe to assume, it's probably going to get there. Maybe. Just... Whatever! 
> 
> WE HOPE YOU ENJOY.

"Why...?" Hux asks, shrewdly observing the servants as they begin to pull the white sheets down from all of the furniture. Ghosts fleeing like the scattering of flies from a corpse. His view, far more cynical than that of Ben Organa who playfully swings his walking stick from his finger, one arm drawn against the small of his back, gloves clasped, observing the goings on with a measure of anticipation and glee that Hux is beginning to find rather insufferable if not entirely suspicious.

Ben’s hat still perched on his head, making him look ever more as an overgrown crow. 

"Why not? We've wintered... Now Spring comes! We hardly use this estate. A party might be just the thing to ring in the new season..."

Wintered, indeed. Hux huffs a breath through his nose. It's been tiresome. Benjamin, happily loitering about, drinking and sleeping and reading and no doubt fucking his way through society who came to visit them in their smaller residence in the city.

‘Home’, such as it is. For Hux, it is more an office. More practical. He doesn't tire of his work, unlike Ben who seems to suffer under the weight of a pen if it is held too long to parchment. To the world, they are simply business partners. Lucrative, pioneering, and extremely wealthy.

Behind doors, the situation is somewhat different. In days past - their passions got the better of them. Celebrating successes, toasting to each other's brilliance and tenacity... Soon seeing only one another after the fires in the grates have burned low and their guests have left.

Taken with wild abandon on the settee, passionate trysts on the horsehair sofa. Hux can still feel the abrasive nature of it rubbing on his sensitive skin with each thrust, if he thinks hard enough about it.

It had originally seemed a harmless way to pass time. A bit of entertainment for Ben who knows nothing of what it is to go without. For Hux, far too busy to pursue relations outside of work, it seemed merely convenient. To handle the tiresome needs of one's bothersome flesh. 

The frequency in which they found themselves supping of the pleasures of each other’s flesh had increased over time. Until there hadn't seemed to require a need and Ben… Well, he was always ready, always... lurking... Beastly thing.

"Parties are expensive. The social calendar isn't eve-"

"We'll open the social calendar." Ben cuts him off, stepping closer, already knowing Hux would protest the closure of the social calendar.

"Ben..." Hux warns, taking a step back from him, deliberately placing space between them.

His habits, his blatant hedonism... They are all expensive. It adds up. More troubling, the longer Hux spends with those neat, perfect lines of his ledgers - he realizes how deeply entangled they have become. How much of his life rides on this business union, and how easily Ben could lead to his ruination after all the hard work he has put in.

"The invites have already gone out." Ben declares, a wide grin. Hux hates it. Hates that gleam, that mirth... So boyish, so roguish... So charming. Lovable. Everything that he himself is not.

"So, you can organize invitations but not your share of the quarterly financial report." He says sourly.

"You are cantankerous..." A step, another step... Not much space between them now. Hux glances around them - deserted in the grand hall. Their possessions revealed.

"And you are irresponsible." Hux retorts, his jaw working.

"What's happened, Hux?" Ben perches his cane on the crook of his arm and reaches for Hux's hand, slipping his large fingers between the much finer, slender fingers of his partner. It seems obscene. It makes Hux’s breath quicken. And he hates it. Hates that Ben can have so much sway over him. It's unfair!

"I just don't want to begin haemorrhaging coin into fruitless ventures. We should be courting investors, not cunts..." He tries to drag his hand away but Ben's grasp only tightens.

"Jealous?" Ben breathes, he burrows that obnoxiously large nose against the juncture of Hux's jaw, and ear. He shivers, narrowing his eyes to dangerous slits, like the edge of a knife he would very much like to plunge into Ben’s thigh.

"Hardly." He retorts. Ben can fuck whoever he likes. So long as it isn't their bank account. 

Ben's soft, full lips brush against his skin as he speaks, "Liar..."

Hux snarls, pushing him away hard enough the cane slips and clatters to the floor.

Ben looks mildly surprised and then concerned.

"We are… Amicable, right, Hux?" He questions.

They should be... But...

"It's never unwise to err on the side of caution." He says in a clipped tone. Ben's habits... Have their costs and being tied so closely to him... If that is a ship that sinks, he'll be dragged down with him. He chooses to focused on the monetary, something more easily defined and documentable. 

"Lay off the wine and the cards." He warns. "And don't get any ideas about courting."

Ben pouts, sticking that ridiculously plush bottom lip out slightly. Charming and irritating all at once.

"That is no sport! How else am I to enjoy the change of season?"

"You've two hands. Figure it out." Hux snaps, beginning to move away.

Ben stares after him, admiring the fine, clean cut to his tailored attire and then springs after him. A loathsome… and yet comely shadow.

"How long has it been?" He questions, following Hux into the ballroom. The floor, still dusty, but the sheet that hung over the giant gilded floor length mirror has been drawn away and the chandeliers exposed. Hux comes to a stop, staring at his reflection.

"Not long enough." He says bitterly, some grim satisfaction in the brief look of hurt on Ben's face.

"I didn't love him..." He says, stepping forward, his hands smoothing around Hux's narrow waist, leaning in close, hunching broad shoulders over him.

Almost all winter, Ben had been holed up with that man....

"And that makes it better?" Hux snaps, his breath catching as Ben's hand smooths down the tight shirt front, pushing hard enough to feel the firm, lean muscle beneath... Lower still, with those long arms, palm brushing over the front of his trousers.

It feels like fire, flames flicking in his veins. Hux's breath deepens, watching their reflection. Ben, dark and powerfully built... He feels so small when he is shadowed by him. Narrow waist, squared shoulders. Seemingly dainty as a pastry. As if Ben might devour him full. It’s a dangerous underestimation to make.

Ben nudges him with the heel of his palm, and Hux gasps, more of a hiss, his hand reaching upwards for that dark hair, fisting in those thick waves and bares his teeth.

"Stop..." He growls, low in his throat.

Ben only moves forward, his hips pressed against Hux as he steps, forcing Hux to move forward as well.

"Why are you behaving like this, Hux?" He questions, his tone more serious, his hand still massaging at Hux's trousers. He notes the rosy bloom on Hux's cheeks, the way his lips slacken, the tinge of a blush on the tips of his ears, at his neck...

"Like what, you insufferable pig?" He grits. Ben glares at him, now shoving him forward, pinning him against the mirror. A crush of cold glass before him and a heavy, warm weight at his back. A contrast that quickens his breath, the mirror fogging with each breath.

"So frigid." Ben complains in a soft tone, his lips finding Hux's ear, his fingers now sliding down into Hux's finely tailored breeches. Hux squirms but it only puts a more divine friction between them. Hux's hand moves from his hair and slaps against the mirror in protest, as if he might have a hope in the world of pushing away. He’d more than physical strength for that and he isn’t entirely certain he has the mental resolve required.

"Maybe I'm t-tired of your...!" He cuts off, his breath quickens as Ben's fingers find him, half hard nestled in smooth fabric. Those thick fingertips slipping through soft hair, coming to grasp him.

"You're not." Ben says, self-assured.

Hux groans, shifting his hips closer to the mirror, but it only serves to grind Ben's hand down harder on him. He's soon panting, caged against the mirror, seeing only his traitorous face twisted into a mask of wanton pleasure while Ben watches, closely, rubbing his hips against him - he can feel how hard Ben is. Hard to ignore that rigidity prodded against his arse.

"I am!" Hux protests, but even to his own ears, it sounds unconvincing, cutting into a stuttering moan, his eyes closing as Ben's thumb slicks across the sensitive head of his cock, finding that telling viscous fluid.

It's shame, he thinks he might be feeling. For how much he does want this... Shame for how easily Ben can seduce him with his sheer physicality... Ben's other hand grips his hip, drawing it back slightly from the mirror, giving his hand more room in his breeches... A slow, lazy and thorough motion. Up and down. Base to head...

"Hh-hh…!" Hux gasps, feeling sweat beginning to bead at his brow, his collar feeling too tight.

Hux’s pulse thunders, his heartbeat so loud he fears it to be heard in this cavernous room - nothing but his heavy breath, the soft moist sounds of Ben's now sweaty palm, the feverish flesh of his cock and the slide of his own precome making the motion so much more fluid.

Something sinful about the subtle rustle of fabric, Ben's soft pants in his ear, his open lips pressing against the side of his neck leaving little deposits of saliva that cool with his movement. Gods.... when did he become such a whore for this man? His head hangs forward, sweat turns his usually soft red hair into violent slashes, falling across his eyes, coming undone from his kempt stylings.

"Oh, f-fuck...!"

It's such a frantic... Dirty thing, his knees feel weak, trembling as he braces his hands against the mirror to steady himself while Ben works his flesh with a feverish relish.

"You're so pretty..." Ben breathes. Hux moans, raggedly - no one but Ben ever says such saccharine rubbish to him and he's hopelessly addicted to it though he would never admit it aloud.

"Sh-shut up!" He whimpers, his eyes screwing shut as that pressure builds, the heat pooled deep in his gut now threatening to spill over.

He whines as Ben works his fist around him - so large he only needs one hand to pleasure him, really.. It's insulting and it feels so fucking good...

"Come for me..." Ben coaxes, licking up the side of his neck. Hux shudders, it won't take much more… He closes his eyes, unable to stomach the sight of his own gluttonous pleasure.

"I want to taste you..." He whispers, so low in his throat, it's barely more than a rumble. Distant, like thunder across the moors. It’s enough to send him crashing right over the edge. Ben can feel that heated thick come in his palm, no doubt soiling Hux's pants. He draws his hand free - it sticks to his fingers, thick, slowly rolling down his palm.

Hux stays pressed against the mirror, trying to catch his breath, peels an eye open to see Ben's tongue from between his lips, laving his hand in slow, perverse strokes with a flat tongue, cleaning Hux's spend from his hand.

"You're disgusting...!" He chastises, watching Ben's eyelids flutter. He makes such filthy sounds of pleasure as he licks away every drop.

"If I'm disgusting, what does that make you for enjoying this so much?" He leans in for a kiss, Hux turns his head aside, pressing his forehead to the mirror, relishing the cool contrast of the glass to the heat caught in his flesh.

Hux makes a sound of irritation, finally staggering back, trying to adjust his trousers back into place. There are rather telling smudges on the mirror now and he scowls at it. It will have to be cleaned before any guests arrive.

Ben allows him a breath of space. He is still achingly hard.

"A lunatic, I suppose." Hux finally mutters. Ben only smirks.

"Come upstairs, they'll have uncovered our bed by now.." Ben prompts.

"Separate rooms, I told you." Hux insists but he's already being lead by Ben to the grand staircase.

Ben shrugs.

"Come to my room, then..." He amends. They pass portraits of Ben's family line that peer down with those same soulful brown eyes. Hux stares straight ahead - a mistake, since all that is presently at eyeline is the firm sculpt of Ben's arse in his trousers and his long, thick, muscled thighs.

So much more the active sportsman, Ben's body has filled and grown - a powerful young god the likes of the renaissance sculptors would have cut their hands off after sculpting for they'd never be able to match the majesty and perfection ever again… While Hux prefers walking or running to soothe the need for physical exertion and to clear his mind, leaving him with a narrower, more wiry shape.

Sure enough, the master bedroom has been unwrapped and redressed... Fresh sheets on the bed. Hux only glowers as Ben lays himself upon it, stretched out on the enormous fixture - a bed made for conquests of a greater number than a simple coupling.

Hux shakes his head, moving over to the desk - stocked still with parchment. At least he can get some work done...

"Who have you invited?" He questions, sitting himself down. He can hear Ben's impatient sigh. When he glances over his shoulder, he can see Ben's already undone his trousers, his blood blushed, thick organ laying stiff and straight up his belly as Ben spits into that same palm just moments ago was covered in Hux's come.

"A selection..." He shrugs, he grips himself lightly, spreading saliva up and down his cock - it glistens, even from where Hux is sitting, he can see it. He squirms slightly in his seat. He refuses to go over. No matter how enticing Ben makes himself, laid out like a feast, thighs parted and inviting.

"Some from the city, some of the families from the low-lands…" He shrugs. Hux know he just wants a variety. His appetites are outrageous and not entirely specific.

"Do you know no shame?" Hux mutters.

Ben’s brow lofts, raising one arm, his hand moving to cradle his own hand, his gaze still rotten with hunger as he observes Hux's form.

"Should I?"

"You're out of control." Hux admonishes, trying to draw his eyes away yet unable to quite do so.

"Maybe you should discipline me..." Ben suggests. "Teach me your cold and puritanical ways...? Purify me." He mocks him, knowing full well the hypocrisy of it, given their interaction just moments ago and many more from their years spent together.

Hux just shakes his head. Filth... However did someone as noble and wondrous as Leia ever give birth to such a sack of vices?

"Take your shirt off." Ben grunts, wriggling up higher on the bed, propping himself on an elbow, one hand still lazily smoothing along his cock. Hux looks back over his shoulder with narrowed eyes.

"Why?"

"I want to see you..." He breathes, his eyes beseeching.

He hates this... And loves it... A thrill. To know that his body at least is at times what Ben craves. It's a feeling of being admired... Devoured by his dark eyes. Consumed, utterly. It’s hideous and intoxicating.

"Ask nicely." Hux insists, knowing full well that Ben will drag him down this path of debauchery yet he feels he must protest at least a smidgeon. If not for his soul, at least his dignity.

"Please take your shirt off, Master Armitage Hux." Ben drawls out, his breath catching a little as he hastens his hand slightly - Hux doesn't miss the sarcasm. With the roll of his eyes, he moves to stand, carefully untying his cravat, letting it slip to the floor.

"You filthy swine..." He mutters, but there's no real heat to it. How can there be when Ben lounges, as glorious as any fallen angel, with those thick lips parted and staring up at him like he is the last drop of water in a desert.

Hux's fingers carefully work the buttons at his wrists and at his neck through their loops after he slips his waistcoat off his slim shoulders.

Ben looks at him, through the fan of his long dark lashes - how is something so soft, so delicate and beauty so sharp and merciless? He cannot resist impaling himself on Hux’s thornier nature.

"P-pants, too." He murmurs.

Hux stands, his chest bared, his shirt draped over the back of the chair.

"What on earth for?" He questions harshly. Ben sees only his perfect pale skin, the old faded marks of a whiplash on his back as Hux turns away to add his waist coat to the back of the chair, the fine silken necktie, too - Ben knew he wouldn't be able to permit himself to leave a mess. So tidy, so rigid... It's part of why he enjoys making him come undone... Loosening him to a boneless, writhing wildly breathing creature... More animal and man.

"You'll want to clean up before we go to town for dinner." He grunts. Hux's jaw tightens.

"Any other social engagements you have neglected to tell me about?" He sounds displeased.

"Just that..." He mutters, eyeing Hux’s delicate pale pink nipples, the small trail of orange hair trailing from his navel, disappearing with tantalising promise below his waistband.

"I'll thrash you, if you're lying." Hux hisses. Ben doesn't appear to be bothered by the statement.

Still, he relents. He would rather not have to attend a social engagement with his pleasure turned to a sticking, uncomfortable mess in his drawers. Reluctantly, he loosens them, slipping them down the narrow curve of his waist, over his hips, the rounded curve of his arse that Ben seems to have a difficult time of not groping... It is the perfect size, the 'impeccable balance' of firm muscle and soft skin, as Ben insists.

The view coaxes a moan from Ben's lips, his head tilts back slightly and his knees drawing further apart. His toes curl against the insoles of his leather boots. Hux only shakes his head, kicking his ankles free of the cuffs of his trousers, leaving him only in his stockings, hugging his slender calves.

He finds water already filling a decanter by the bedside. He makes the mistake of straying too close - one brutish hand reaching out to grip the pale globe of his arse cheek. He rolls his eyes.

"Finish yourself, and quickly. I presume this is not a late dinner invitation." But he doesn't step aside, letting Ben fondle him while he jerks his hand up and down that engorged member. Hux eyes it for a moment before soaking a cloth in the water and begins to dab at himself, trying to clean away every last trace of the evidence of his weakness.

"You have the worst timing." Hux chastises.

Ben isn't listening, too busy drinking him in - fucking into his hand, a litany of sordid, lustful sounds bubbling out of him like the water in the front gardens' fountains.

"H-Hux….!" He sighs, a strangled moan choking out his deep voice as he spills over into his hand, trembling on the bed as his climax rolls over him. It's a beautiful, wretched sight....

Hux sneers at him, tossing the cloth over atop of the organ, leaking streaking ribbons into Ben’s palm. Ben groans, throwing his arm over his face. He's always been so hypersensitive after... It's the only time he seems to be weakened at all... Hux leans over, grinding his palm against his slowly flagging cock and grins with cruel satisfaction as Ben gasps, arching his back and swears - soft sounds like whimpers. A pathetic cry for both more and for him to stop.

"Hurry... up." Hux enunciates slowly in his learned and polished accent.

"And tell me, where are we going?" Hux asks he withdraws his hand, managing to make Ben whine in protest, weakly grasping his wrist.

"D-dinner..." He repeats. Hux just fixes him with an irritated look.

"I know that much..."

"We've been invited to dine with Snoke, seeing as we've returned to this side of the country." Ben mumbles, sitting up, finally, his dark hair hanging. Come still on his hand. Hux gives him a look that suggests he'd better not get any ideas about him cleaning Ben’s hand similarly. He's still angry at him...

Hux exhales softly at the mention of the name.

He didn't want to accept Snoke’s investment money. It seems an age ago and yet it seems, a debt they can never quite entirely pay off...

"You might have said sooner so we could prepare a little more." He grumbles, moving to the wardrobe - already some of their clothing has been unpacked and hung. He would have liked to have some statements of accounts prepared, a report of where Snoke’s money has gone and how it will be returned.

"His daughter might be there." Ben mentions, wiping at his hand, his flagging cock before tucking it away again. He nudges himself closer to the edge of the bed.

Hux grits his teeth. That is not a selling point... He has enough worries about Ben's appetites without adding a myriad of more bodies to tempt him. Play with men and socially it's scandalous but at least none of their lives will be utterly ruined if they play their cards right. A woman, however, and their virtue once taken, has a nasty way of shadowing their entire lives. Something Hux has never understood....

Why should men rut in the fields like pigs and women to be denied when they quite clearly have the same urges? He'll never quite understand... It seems a rotten hand of fate. What, with utter sluts like Ben, why should he eventually land a virginal pristine young lady when he has nothing of the same virtue to return to her?

"Will you behave yourself?"Hux asks. The element of danger is not entirely restricted to their reputations. Snoke is a major business partner. If Ben loses his head and fucks his daughter… There could be real irreparable damage done and Snoke is a man of means and resources to make their lives miserable if he choses. Ben wanders nearer, peering into the wardrobe.

"You should wear blue... It brings out your eyes." Ben murmurs.

"That's not an answer." He grumbles.

"I'll try..." Ben assures him, leaning in close, gripping at Hux's bare arse, slipping a finger between his cheeks - soft as any peach. Hux squirms away from him, drawing out something of a stiff black nature and begins to dress himself.

"So severe..." Ben mourns.

Hux scoffs.

"We're going to a colleague's home. Not a brothel."

"Might be..." Ben says, with a grin, pushing his hands through his hair, doing relatively little to tame his long unkempt waves. "If the rumors are true." He's heard a lot about Vysera Ren, Snoke's daughter. And the fact that she may be bringing some kin from the backwater bilge of the countryside, too...

"If the rumors are true, you're likely to be a sneeze away from syphilitic insanity." Hux retorts, stepping before the much smaller mirror to knot a fresh necktie about his neck. Ben simply searches for a clean coat to pull on over his attire.

"You're so cruel to me, Hux… What has happened between us?" He questions, sounding genuinely perplexed. His hurt seems genuine and it baffles Hux as to how he could be quite so clueless.

Hux just shakes his head, combing back his red hair, catching it with a dark silk ribbon before collecting a fresh pair of gloves.

Truthfully, he can't even begin to answer. He hasn't figured it out for himself, let alone if it’s anything he'd care to divulge to Ben in an effort not to lose face. He strides from the room without another word, just the soft click of his boots down the hall, the tap, tap, tap, down the stairs.

With a heavy sigh, Ben rakes his hand through his own drawer and produces a pair of gloves, collects a new hat and follows after him to the waiting carriage in the courtyard.


End file.
